Dissent

When the first bombs dropped in Kabul
I was called a traitor,
My silent display of values strived for,
drawn each day on my face.

When the first bombs hit Baghdad
I was on the march,
Frozen cold in Minneapolis,
But we shivered till they heard us.

When the first bombs hit our soldiers
I asked to call it off,
but the death toll continued
for each casualty should not be in vain

When I questioned why the bombs were ready
They told me we’d been hit
When I asked for proof of guilt
They pointed to U.S. receipts.

When I questioned why the bombs were ready
They told me it’d be over soon enough,
But each time they said “our way was righteous”
It reminded me of the day

When the first bombs hit our buildings
and no one asked their motives
because the courage to answer questions
disturbs the freedom to ignore.